


The Nature of the Beast

by rexluscus, schemingreader



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bestiality, Bondage, M/M, Other, Outdoor Sex, Vore Fantasy, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexluscus/pseuds/rexluscus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/schemingreader/pseuds/schemingreader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus discovers that Severus has fantasies about the wolf, and suggests acting them out. The question is, will it end up being just a bit of kinky fun, or a Profoundly Bad Idea?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nature of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the 2006 Snupin Fantasy Fest prompt from Kitsune: "SS has a fantasy: JP didn't stop RL from attacking him at the Shack. RL finds out. NC-17 and heavy kink (beast &/or vore) a plus!"

It began with a minor Legilimency mishap. Remus wondered if other couples had these sorts of problems.

"For Merlin's sake, just let me _see_ it," Severus had groused. "You're bollocks at directions."

So Remus had braced himself for the now-familiar feeling of Severus's mind gently prying his open and slipping inside…except this time, something else happened as well. As Severus found the way to the new magical surveillance shop in Diagon Alley and began to withdraw, a kind of riptide dragged Remus along with him, and suddenly Remus found himself in Severus's mind instead of his own. There could be no question about where they were—it was a veritable hurricane of overwhelming emotions and ambivalent memories inside Severus's head. Great Merlin—did Severus live with this every moment of the day?

Remus expected to collide at any moment with the walls of Severus's formidable Occlumency, but mysteriously, the images just kept coming. Suddenly he was face to face with their shared trauma—the incident at the Shrieking Shack in sixth year. Remus saw himself—only it wasn't himself, it was the wolf. In Severus's memory, he was a great, slavering beast looming over a pale and petrified boy, a little slip of a thing lying half on his back and scrabbling with hands and feet to inch away, huge dark eyes swimming with terror.

Something was wrong with this memory, Remus realised. He knew very well that James had already appeared at this point to drag Severus to safety—otherwise, things would obviously have turned out quite differently. The wolf was nearly upon the boy now, and at some point when Remus wasn't looking the boy had had his wrists and ankles bound (something Remus was _positive_ had never happened) and still no James was arriving to save the day.

He wanted to look away, wanted to close his eyes, but the inner eye has no lid and the images flooded him unimpeded. So _this_ was what Severus imagined when he looked at him? Twenty years after the fact, with two years of a good and satisfying relationship behind them, during which Severus had looked him in the eye many times and told him—repeatedly!—that he hardly ever gave that horrible night a passing thought?

Then it was happening. The wolf fell upon Severus with a snarl that nearly drowned out the boy's screams, its teeth tearing at a tender white shoulder, and Remus was frozen with sick horror as blood sprayed in a bright fan across the floor and Severus's screams became high and shrill. The wolf's bulk covered the boy completely and there were now only low growls mixed with the wet sounds of flesh tearing under teeth, the hungry noises of a beast feeding on a struggling, dying creature.

It was then that things took a peculiar turn. The high, chilling screams had ceased. There was now the sound of clothing being torn, not flesh, and the wolf rose suddenly to reveal the boy naked, quivering, and bloodied, but stretched on his back as though awaiting the touch of a lover. The wolf pinned him down and the boy whimpered softly, but—Remus realised with a shock—they were whimpers of arousal, not fear. Remus watched in stunned disbelief as the wolf mounted the unresisting boy and ploughed its thick, mottled red cock into the spread, shaking body…

Then Remus found himself suddenly on his arse on the floor, staring up at Severus's livid, trembling face.

Severus said nothing—he just shook with silent fury. His face was so pale it had a greenish cast and there were slivers of white above his dark irises. Remus was dumb with shock. How could he possibly begin processing what he'd just seen? For two years they had lived together, made love, shared their worst moments with one another—for Merlin's sake, built a _life_ together—and all this time, Severus had secretly feared that Remus would become the wolf and rape him? It made his gorge rise. He felt hurt, angry, sad, sick—it was too much to feel all at once.

He decided, therefore, to face the situation like a man: they would pretend nothing had happened. He got up from the floor, adjusted his robes, and left the room.

At first, Remus's plan worked perfectly. They didn't discuss the incident. Their conversation was restricted to polite requests to pass the marmalade. Two weeks had passed in the enforced silence when Remus accidentally stepped in the proverbial hornet's nest by mentioning an article he'd read on the use of Legilimency in psychotherapy. Only after the words had left his mouth did Remus realise that he was asking about what he had seen.

Severus threw down his newspaper, nearly upsetting his teacup. "I don't want to talk about it!"

Remus sighed and closed his eyes. "I just—I just want to know why."

"What do you want me to say?" Severus shouted. "I have no _idea_ why I fantasise about being fucked by a ravenous werewolf, Remus, I just do. Don't you have the occasional peculiar fantasy, or are you somehow purer than the rest of us? Why don't you tell _me_ why?"

Remus's mouth hung open stupidly. "You mean"—he tried not to splutter—"the thought of—of _that_ …it turns you on?"

Severus's response was a furious glare.

Remus sat back hard in his chair. "So—let me get this right—you blamed me for years for the trauma of nearly being killed by the wolf, and now you mean to tell me that it—that it _gets you off?_ "

Severus had the grace to look a little guilty. "Well…it was easier to admit to the trauma than to—to the other thing."

"I suppose I can understand that," Remus mumbled. His shock was quickly being replaced by fascination. "So tell me more about this…fantasy of yours."

"Well…" Severus was visibly composing himself. "I suppose it's the danger and the helplessness I find so arousing…" His voice thickened slightly.

Remus felt his pants tighten. He went to stand behind Severus's chair and leaned down to rub his face in the crook of Severus's neck. "Go on," he breathed.

"You can't help yourself," Severus murmured without turning around. "The wolf recognises my scent, and you have to mark me…to take me..."

Remus was breathing hard through his nose, sweat breaking out on his forehead.

"You are so hard and so huge...your bulk is pinning me down and I can't move…"

Remus couldn't stand it any longer; he was hard and huge _now_. But Severus seemed to be oblivious; he was sitting still, staring at his hands in his lap. Remus realised suddenly that the man was ashamed.

"I would do that for you," Remus said.

"What?" Severus's chin lifted.

"I would"—Remus took a deep breath—"fuck you...after transformation. With the Wolfsbane, of course," he added hurriedly.

Severus turned to him with a look of horror. "No! It's just a sick fancy! You _do_ understand the difference between fancy and reality, don't you?"

"Look—" Remus sighed, hardly believing he was saying what he was saying. "It obviously bothers you that you have this fantasy. Maybe if we actually do it, you'll stop having it!"

"Yes, but then I'll have _done_ it," said Severus, halfway between disgust and incredulity. "That's rather like treating a parchment cut by chopping off the finger, don't you think?"

"Well…" Remus shrugged. "It might not be so bad. Things are always so much bigger in your mind. Sometimes the reality's rather dull by comparison."

"That might be true of riding a broom for the first time, but I have a feeling being sodomised by a werewolf is a pretty big deal even in the plain light of day, Remus."

"I don't know, Severus. Really, when you come down to it, it's just sex. And it would be _me_ in there, not some beast. I'm far too boring to do anything outrageous—you've told me that yourself, haven't you?"

"It's an absolutely appalling idea," Severus said firmly, but his narrowed eyes remained on Remus's face far too long and too speculatively for Remus to be convinced he'd entirely dismissed the idea.

* * *

Two weeks later, Severus Snape had the luxury of thinking back to that morning and wondering at what point, exactly, during that conversation had he allowed himself to be talked into such a foolish plan. Being relatively new to this love business, he didn't always anticipate its many pitfalls—such as the tendency for anything suggested by one's beloved to seem temporarily like a brilliant idea.

Now, all alone in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, without a stitch of clothing on and bound hand and foot to an enormous oak tree, clarity returned in an unwelcome rush. For the first five minutes or so after Remus had secured him to the tree and disappeared off into the depths of the forest where his transformation would take place unseen, Severus's body had thrummed with excitement—there was nothing quite so dangerous and illicit-feeling as being naked out of doors, and his total helplessness under the strong cords that held his body in as open and vulnerable a position as possible got him even more aroused. He and Remus had played these sorts of games before in the privacy and safety of their rooms; he'd never imagined how incredible it could be with the cool night air tickling his skin and the sounds of hidden creatures in the brush surrounding him.

The exhilaration, however, had quickly given way to worry. Testing the cords holding his wrists, he found that he truly had no means of escape—regardless of what kind of creature might happen upon him before Remus returned in wolf-form. There were other werewolves in the Forbidden Forest, after all, ones that didn't have the benefit of Wolfsbane, not to mention centaurs, acromantulas, and any number of other Dark creatures hostile to humans. How would he explain to a centaur why he happened to be tied up naked and spread-eagled to a tree in their territory—and even if he managed that rhetorical feat, what good would an explanation be against an acromantula? The centaurs might give him the benefit of the doubt before sticking him full of arrows, but the acromantulas would make a quick and unresisting meal of him.

He tugged again at the cords, knowing there was no point, and felt his pulse speed up. In the bedroom, he loved being helpless—he held everything else in his life in such a vise-like grip that sex was the only time he _could_ bring himself to give up control. But there was nothing truly dangerous in a bedroom; the cords would come off with just one word to Remus; the growls and nips and bared teeth were all just a game. Out here…out here, he could be seriously hurt. There were things that could kill him lurking just past that tree line. Beads of sweat trickled down his sides from his armpits and he wondered if those nameless things out there could smell the fear billowing off him in great clouds.

It was an exceptionally clear, still night. All was silent, except for the occasional whisper of a breeze in the grass, which Severus would feel moments later on his bare skin. It wasn't at all cold, but the breeze gently stirring the hairs at his groin enlivened with shocking coolness the warm places between his legs that rarely felt the touch of air, and made his skin prickle all over with goose bumps.

Shivering from fear more than cold, he cursed Remus for the hundredth time since he'd left Severus over an hour ago, and cursed his sentimental old heart that knew about as much about love as a teenager's. How could he have let Remus talk him into something so profoundly stupid? Was he incapable of refusing the man anything? Did he somehow manage to go temporarily insane whenever Remus was within fifteen feet of him? He cursed again and thought about the centaurs. It was possible—he didn't know which way their tastes ran, but he'd been told it was quite exotic—that they might forego killing him in favour of having a bit of sport with him instead. He shuddered. Perhaps they would take him down from his tree and drape him over that rock over there, spread his legs and split him apart with massive equine cocks, all having him one after the other…

The wind teased over his quivering flanks and he felt his cock growing hard.

The acromantulas would be far less gentle. He thought of their horrible pincers on his belly, venom burning his twitching skin, awful furry legs parting his thighs, gruesome mouths tearing into his tender unprotected flesh. He didn't even realise until his wrists began to hurt that he'd been straining against his bonds as he thought about the creatures devouring him, and a thrill of disgust went through him as he realised how hard his cock was, just imagining the brush of that alien, spidery skin against his, the tickle of those rough bristles on his most sensitive places—

He froze. Bristles. Acromantula hair was one of the key ingredients in Wolfsbane, as he well knew. He couldn't recall adding it to his most recent batch.

His stomach dropped and his erection wilted as he wracked his mind for the memory of adding the bristles. Making potions was largely automatic for him at this point—he didn't need to think to execute the steps, he just acted on instinct while his conscious mind wandered off to do other things. There was no reason he should specifically remember adding the acromantula hair. He ran through this month's potion step by step: aconite, dried hollyhock, powdered unicorn horn…he could recall everything going in, except the damned acromantula bristles. His mind was nearly blank with terror.

He tugged his wrists against the cords again, hard, and found the extra force just as futile. Somehow he was ten times as frustrated by their failure to budge this time—now that he _really_ wanted down. The chill in his gut, the shivers of panic running up his spine, were making him struggle irrationally, like a fly caught in a web, accomplishing nothing except depleting his energy. So, so stupid. There were so many ways this ridiculous idea could have gone wrong; it was inevitable that one of them would end up happening. Blaming Remus only made him feel slightly better; despite his panic, he was still lucid enough to know that he was the biggest idiot in the equation.

Reminding himself that struggling would only wear him out, he forced himself to be still and tried to control his breathing. It was probably fine—he never remembered each and every ingredient he added to each and every potion. The chances of his screwing up a potion now when he almost never did so were incredibly slim. The Remus who was making his way toward him at this moment was, in all likelihood, his Remus and not a mindless monster. Probably. Ninety-five percent certainty, definitely. He made his muscles relax, sucking in deep, slow breaths. His erection from before was almost completely gone.

When he heard sudden motion in the underbrush across the glen, though, his relaxation techniques went out the window and he twisted and writhed against the cords like a hooked fish. He thought about his armchair before the fire, where he'd be happily curled with a book and a cup of tea if he hadn't let Remus talk him into this ridiculous stunt. He just wanted down, he wanted his clothes and his wand and he wanted to be out of this horrid forest, and he wanted to stay the hell away from whatever was moving around in those bushes.

It was something big. Probably Remus; but who was to say it wasn't a Remus with the mind and appetites of a wolf? His back against the rough back of the tree was slick with sweat, and his vision swam with fear.

The bushes rustled some more, then parted around a large, dark shape. Severus could hear its wet, panting breaths even at this distance. Oh dear God. He saw the narrow snout and yellow, wide-set eyes of a wolf—but which wolf? And if Remus, was it _his_ Remus?

The wolf fixed its eyes on him and gave a low growl. It seemed bigger and darker than Severus remembered a transformed Remus being, but he couldn't be sure. Was it Remus play-acting, trying to make him afraid, or was that a real growl that the creature was uttering as it loped across the glen toward him? He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then couldn't bear the thought of the wolf approaching him while he wasn't looking and so opened them again.

The wolf had drawn much closer. Its growl was steady and menacing as it trotted, tongue lolling out, ears pricked forward and tail high. Moving faster and faster as it got closer, the growl became louder, fiercer. As it leaped at him, Severus shut his eyes and turned his head to the side, his blood turning to ice and his mind going blank except for one thought: _please_.

The wolf hit his chest with the force of a bludger at close range. Its rough pelt and hot, wet breath were suddenly against him, and the claws of its front paws were digging into his skin. When no bite came, a bit of Severus's blind panic drained away, but the wolf's slavering jaws were still inches away from his face and the fear gathered low in his chest, just waiting to swell back up into his throat.

He did his best to turn his face toward the wolf's grinning jaws. "R-remus." He couldn't keep his teeth from chattering. "G-give me some s-sign it's y-you."

In reply, the wolf's panting ceased and it emitted another growl, which rapidly became a blood-curdling snarl. Snape closed his eyes and shrank back, meeting the tree far too soon. If Remus meant that as a sign, Severus was going to give him a hell of a talking-to later.

"Remus…" The wolf gave no indication of understanding Severus's words. Instead, its paws were scrabbling roughly on his chest, and he gasped as they suddenly gouged deep scratches into his skin. He _knew_ Remus would never do that if he were sane and lucid. This had to be an untreated, potionless werewolf—but if it was, why wasn't he dead yet?

The wolf had stopped growling and was now sniffing him all over, its wet nose snuffling loudly and leaving a cold, wet trail on his skin. It would've been funny if it hadn't been terrifying. The wolf sniffed his neck and his hair, then down under his arms where it pushed its snout into the thatch of hair there and inhaled great, moist breaths, and then lower on his body until that clammy nose was nudging into his crotch. With the weight and claws off his chest, Severus managed to breathe a bit freer, but now the wolf's breath tickling him between his legs made him realise just how close a hungry predator was to his bits. It was doing nothing but sniffing interestedly for now, though, running its nose through his pubic hair and down to his testicles, then nudging those aside to push further in and sniff the cleft of his arse. It felt strange to have something cold and wet down there, along with the texture of fur. It tickled, actually. The wolf's ear was brushing his cock, and despite the fact that his limbs were still shuddering uncontrollably with fear and the deep cuts on his chest were beginning to sting, he found himself inexplicably growing hard again.

The wolf jerked its snout out suddenly, as though noticing that its plaything was aroused. It whined, jaws hanging open in a wolfy smile, then bathed his lower belly and upper thighs with its warm, rough tongue. Then it licked his cock from root to tip.

He'd never felt anything even remotely like it. The tongue was so much bigger than a human tongue, so much wetter and rougher and stronger, as well as surprisingly prehensile—it slithered around his cock with amazing control. Severus tentatively relaxed and allowed his eyes to slip shut as the wolf began to lap at him, bathing his cock in wolf slobber, licking him thoroughly up and down like a dog cleaning its bowl. It made wet, snuffling noise as it did this and its humid dog breath scoured the surfaces the tongue had left wet, making all the hairs on Severus's body stand on end. There was something deliciously disgusting about it, so perverted, but so _good_ , that Severus couldn't be arsed to care. His cock hardened more as he considered the utter wrongness of this, the absolute foolhardiness and off-the-map-edness of it all. The tongue was lapping everywhere between his legs now, as though Severus's groin were covered in something tasty and the wolf was cleaning it off to the last drop. He twisted in a full-body shiver as the tongue slithered between his cheeks and touched his arsehole.

It covered every bit of him, from belly to chest to neck. The scrape of the rough tongue across his nipples made his hips jerk, and the wolf growled at him for a moment, its furry belly grinding against his cock, which was now achingly hard. Every inch of his skin felt extra sensitive, alive to each minute stirring of the air. The tongue swirled around in his armpit and he shuddered and gasped, wrists and ankles straining against the cords, but this time it was a hot bloom of arousal and not an icy stab of fear that followed his discovery that he was fully and soundly trapped.

He still wasn't sure if the wolf was Remus after all; but it didn't seem to want to kill him, and that was all Severus cared about at the moment. It pulled away from him and after a moment he realised that the wolf's jaws were working the cords near his ankle—they gave way with a sudden snap and his arms were suddenly strained as his legs swung free. When the wolf had worked the cords holding his wrists loose, he tumbled gracelessly to the ground and simply lay still for a moment, breathing hard, nose filled with the pungent scent of grass and scalp prickling with sweat, as he waited to discover what the wolf would do next. He thought he had a good idea at this point what it wanted, but he knew it wasn't up to him, and that thought thrilled him and filled his cock even more.

The dark, heavy weight settled above him and he rolled over, startled by suddenly being pinned down again. When the wolf did nothing for a moment, he allowed himself to relax inch by inch, lowering his knees and letting his head fall back to expose his throat until he lay spread-eagled in the grass. The wolf continued to stand motionless over him, its front paws planted near his shoulders and its hind paws near his hips. He closed his eyes and waited, feeling its breath panting on his neck.

The next thing he knew, the cold snout was nudging between his arse cheeks, pushing at him, _up_ , as though it were trying to get him to move. He pulled his knees up to his chest; he knew this would be easier if he were on his hands and knees but he shivered with delight at the idea of being able to see the wolf as it mounted him. Once his hole was presented and exposed, the wolf slathered it liberally with a dripping tongue, and Severus grunted with sheer animal joy at the amazing feeling of that slick thing stroking the delicate skin of his perineum, his anus, the underside of his balls. The wolf tasted all of it, its tongue curling around his balls then working its way into his arsehole past the twitching muscles, opening him up. Severus himself felt like an animal, displaying himself like a bitch in heat, begging to be fucked. It was exhilarating.

As the wolf moved forward to plant its paws on either side of his ribs, Severus got his first good look at the wolf's cock. It was enormous—long, thick, and red, tapered at the end but with a large bulge at the base just before the ample testicles. Would the wolf try to fit that bulb inside him? He wasn't sure if he was thrilled or terrified at the prospect—even if this _was_ Remus, he could easily hurt Severus without even realising it. He closed his eyes and tried to resign himself to whatever was about to happen—there was no going back now. He spread himself as wide as possible and waited for the wolf to mount him.

At first, the wolf didn't seem to know quite what to do. It sniffed curiously around his face and neck, whining and bumping its cock against his knee, then scrabbling at his arms with abrasive claws. Severus felt the tip of that amazing cock touch him between his legs, then slip around fruitlessly for a bit. Cracking an eye open, he reached down to guide it in, but as he laid a finger on it the wolf growled at him and barked, snapping its jaws just beyond his nose. He gasped and jerked his hand back. The wolf planted its paws on his shoulders and dropped its entire front half onto his chest, then bent its hind legs and let its back half drop as well, driving its cock straight into his arsehole with the full force of its collapsing weight.

He felt like he'd been split like a log with an axe. The huge cock sank inside to the root and he was instantly filled, pinned from above by the wolf's heavy bulk, thoroughly and utterly _taken_. He didn't even have the strength to shriek as his body was so suddenly and brutally taken over; he just gasped, frozen between fear and ecstasy, half aware that he could be torn, bleeding, and yet unable to think of anything besides the bliss of surrender. Even now the wolf was trying to force that curious bulb into his anus, to fill him and stretch him further. Then the cock withdrew—and slammed back in.

The wolf's hindquarters worked like pistons forcing the thick cock in and out, and to Severus it felt like being tossed about in the surf by a giant wave—the thrusts, quick, brutal and deep, shook his body until he seemed to be floating, unable to feel which way was up and which was down. Claws dug into his shoulders, cutting him, and he breathed in the wolf's breath that puffed hot and rank in his face as the wolf panted its animal pleasure. He tried to lock his ankles over the wolf's back but the sheer force of the thrusts kept shaking him loose.

Gradually he became aware of the incredible pressure hammering against his prostate, rhythmic and unrelenting, sparking pleasure through his insides so intense that it was nearly pain. His arse was burning from the brutal assault—that _was_ pain, he thought, but pleasure and pain had become so close that they were just sensation, pure and powerful. He knew he was moaning continuously but he could barely hear it. His cock was scraping against the wolf's furry belly with every jackhammer thrust, and soon he knew he was going to come, could feel the need building like a sweet ache in his balls—but the wolf wasn't waiting around for him to find the perfect moment. The wolf was going to _make_ him come, _force_ him to come whether he was ready or not—was going to pound it out of him, pick him up and hurl him down—

Severus came hard, shrieking, teeth clenching and limbs trembling against the furry weight as he shot into the thick, rough pelt, tremors shaking his poor body trapped helplessly beneath the wolf who barely seemed to notice his cries.

After another few minutes, the thrusting stopped, and warmth erupted in Severus's insides as the wolf filled him with spunk, holding itself rigid and still. It was now that he recalled how canines mated—he was in for a long wait as the wolf finished coming and detumesced enough to pull out without hurting him. It was a distinctly unromantic afterglow. The smell of wet fur and dog breath filled his nostrils as the last shudders of his own orgasm left him and he began to feel the burn in his thighs from holding his legs back for so long. His whole body itched—from the wolf's saliva, from the fur, from the grass under his back. He was sweating where the pelt lay against his skin and why couldn't the damned creature _hurry up_ and finish already?

Finally the wolf's cock was soft enough to pull out. It shuddered, stood, and gave Severus's face a final lick before trotting away.

Dizzy with shocked bliss, Severus summoned his clothes from the rock where he had stowed them, and pulled them on with stiff fingers. The moon would be setting soon and he wanted to be there when Remus transformed, as he always was. Groaning and holding a hand to his aching back, he limped his way back to Hagrid's hut, where Remus would be waiting.

* * *

Remus knew he looked like hell—he always did after a transformation. It was a beautiful June day, everything was green, and he was sitting on a folding chair in Hagrid's back garden. He was wrapped in a blanket and drinking a cup of tea.

Severus still hadn't looked him in the face.

"Severus?"

"What is it?" Severus snapped.

"Was it that bad?" Remus asked sheepishly.

"You mean you don't remember?" Severus asked.

"Not...not really. I mean, the Wolfsbane lets me keep my sanity, but I'm still a wolf. I only have limited receptive language, and I can't remember things the way a human adult does."

"So you didn't...enjoy it?" Severus asked in a suspiciously neutral way.

"I...I don't know. I can't remember it very well. Just smells, mostly." Remus had tried but failed to keep his disappointment out of his voice. Then he asked cautiously, "Did _you_ enjoy it?" He thought of adding ' _This was for you, after all_ ,' but he could imagine far too many ways for Severus to misinterpret that.

They walked slowly back to the hut. They were both a bit creaky—Remus from his transformation, and Severus from what could only have been a highly athletic sexual adventure. Inside, Remus reclined on Hagrid's enormous bed, his eyes half shut. "Come here, Severus. Tell me what it was like."

Severus still couldn't look at him. That wasn't a good sign. He arranged his long limbs on the bed carefully, so that they weren't touching. His head was on the pillow, his dark hair fanned out, and he looked at the ceiling.

Remus waited.

Severus began to speak, his voice quiet and controlled. "As you know, I was bound and helpless. Only after you left did it occur to me that anyone or anything could have happened along to find me naked and at their mercy."

Remus shifted a little, not wanting Severus to know that this was already going straight to his groin.

"When the wolf arrived, I wasn't even sure it was you. I asked you to give me a sign and you snarled at me—I didn't know how to take that. So through the entire encounter, I was aware that it might be another werewolf that was fucking me—a savage one."

Remus wanted to sniff Severus now. He leaned over carefully, so that his head was on Severus's shoulder, and breathed in the smell of Severus's shampoo, and beneath it, the warm smell of his scalp. He inhaled deeply, and shut his eyes.

"The wolf stood up on its hind legs," Severus continued. "It leaned against my chest and growled at me. I was terrified." His voice was still soft and controlled, and he was still looking at the ceiling. Remus put his arm around Severus's chest and pressed his body against Severus's side.

"It began to smell me—my face and hair, my armpits, my groin. It could tell when I became aroused. It began to lick me. It wasn't anything like being licked by a human tongue—it touched me everywhere, got everywhere—between my legs—"

"Oh Merlin, Severus..." Remus murmured, grinding his crotch against Severus's thigh.

"It licked my entire body—my nipples, my cock, every inch of my skin..."

Remus untucked Severus' summer shirt—he wasn't wearing a robe—and ran his hand inside, touching the smooth chest dusted with crinkly hair. He could feel that Severus's nipples were erect now, alive to his touch.

"I've never been so turned on," continued Severus in a maddeningly quiet voice. "It was as though the fear and the arousal had become indistinguishable."

Remus nuzzled the crook of Severus's neck, which garnered him a soft sigh.

"I knew I had to behave submissively, that the wolf wanted to mate with me. So I presented myself for it to fuck. I was terrified—I thought if I didn't do that, it might kill me instead. It prepared me, like a human man might—that made me think that perhaps it was you in there after all. It licked my arsehole until I was dripping, open and ready..."

Remus groaned and his eyes rolled momentarily back. His hips moved lazily against Severus now.

"Its cock was so huge, so hot and hard. When it entered me, it was like being split in two...I thought for sure I'd be bleeding…" Severus turned his face to Remus now, and looked at him. Remus could see his sallow face was slightly flushed, and his eyes were dark and dilated. "It held me down as it fucked me; I couldn't have moved if I'd wanted to...."

"Severus..." Remus almost hissed his name. He covered Severus's mouth in a sloppy kiss, lips loose and vague, tongue reaching and plunging. He was rewarded with a quick, eager hand tearing open his pants and grasping his cock. A few ragged thrusts into its strong grip and he was coming with a high cry, shaking and gasping.

"Oh God." Remus lay still as Severus cleaned them both up with a spell, then wrapped Remus close in his arms.

He didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "I—did I hurt you?"

"No." Severus shifted a bit. "Well—nothing serious, anyway."

"Was it...cathartic?" Remus hesitated. "I mean, did it accomplish what we hoped it might?"

"It was perfect."

That made Remus pause.

"Severus…" He searched around for the right words. "Is that—what you're going to want from now on? The wolf?"

Severus turned to him with a cocked eyebrow. "Am I losing my mind…or did you just tell me you're _jealous_ of the wolf now?"

"No!" Remus stiffened indignantly. "I mean…well…the whole point of this was to get that fantasy out of your head, but if it was such an incredible experience, then I expect it'll have quite the _opposite_ effect…"

"Remus. I don't want the wolf."

"But—you just said the sex was perfect. Did I do something wrong—?"

"For Merlin's sake, make up your mind!" Severus gave an exasperated sigh. "Listen to me: the sex was good, I won't deny it. What was _not_ good was being terrified for my life, and feeling like I'd been buggered by a battering ram afterward. It was quite an experience, but one I'm very happy not to repeat, if you don't mind."

"All right." Remus tightened his arms around Severus. "I love you, you know."

Severus sighed. "I think it's pretty obvious the feeling's mutual—nobody else on Earth could have talked me into something so idiotic, certainly."

Remus smiled beatifically and snuggled closer, listening to the pulse of Severus's heart under his ear. "Be careful, Severus," he murmured, "we wouldn’t want you to get maudlin…" as he slowly drifted toward sleep.


End file.
